In Our Last Hour
by FanWriterWV
Summary: My own personal take on what Jack's last hour might be like. Set several years after the current season. Warning: Includes character deaths and possible spoilers for Season 6.


IN OUR LAST HOUR

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters; Jack Bauer and "24" are the property of FOX Studios and their creators._

_This is my take on what Jack's last hour might be like, several years after the horrific events of this season._

_The following takes place between 8 and 9 p.m._

There was a sudden chill in the air. Jack shivered slightly as he got up to put more wood in the stove he used for heat. The cabin had once belonged to his father, and Jack could still feel his ghost haunting it, watching over him.

_I'm alone now, Dad. No friends to have to worry about, no family worrying about me, and I'm unaffected by the world outside. Is this what you wanted? _He knew it was an unfair question, that in his own way his father had wanted more for him, but as Jack sat down on the couch and returned to typing on the ancient laptop, he couldn't help but feel that Dad was having the last laugh, and maybe a lot of other people were, as well.

It was isolated up here in the mountains, but Jack had the forest for company. He had a cell phone, but he hadn't used it in years and doubted there was even anybody left to call these days. Jack looked at what he'd written so far on the screen.

_My name is Jack Bauer. Today is the last day of my life. I'm writing this down in the hope that somebody, someday, might find it. Because people deserve to know what happened. What really happened behind the scenes during all those years America was under attack, and after the final, brutal end._

There was an old photograph of him with Audrey and Kim in happier times. They'd manage to share some of that happiness again, one last time, before…Jack started shaking. He coughed and took a bottle of pills out of his coat pocket. He'd made them himself, in the small lab he had in the next room. Years of research with the help of old books he'd brought with him had helped him learn how. He popped two of them in his mouth and the shaking began to subside. He knew that nightmares would come later, but he had pills for them, too. The only thing he couldn't make a pill for was the memories. He calmed down and got back to work.

_First of all, it wasn't the president's fault. He was a good man who happened to have bad advisers. When everything started coming apart at the seams, he did his best to keep us together. In the hour of madness he was the sane one, believe it or not. He did what he felt he had to do, and I would have done the same thing. At least, that's what I keep telling myself._

There was a rumble of thunder outside. For a moment Jack looked up and felt terror, but it was just another late winter storm rolling through the mountains. Spring was coming late this year, but the rain would help wash the remaining snow away and the trees would turn green again. Jack kept that in mind as he kept writing.

_Everything has a reason. That's what Audrey and Chloe told me. I didn't believe it at the time, but now it all makes a crazy kind of sense. We were all doing our jobs; reacting as we should. And maybe that was part of the problem. We were reacting instead of acting when the final blows came._

Jack thought about something Bill Buchanan had told him. "We have to make choices every day on this job that we don't like. Sometimes we hate ourselves for what we've had to do. But we do it because no one else can. Curtis would have understood that."

…_Curtis was the one who was trying to warn me. Not just about Assad; about what was to come if we continued to trust our intelligence rather than our instincts. And, God help me, Curtis, you were right. Assad was just part of the larger force that was working against us._

Jack closed his eyes and listened to the rain against the roof. If he tried hard enough he could imagine that it sounded like voices and that he was back at CTU, surrounded by his friends and co-workers. But they were all gone now, and CTU was just a memory, along with the life he'd once led there.

He stopped writing as the lights flickered. Jack sighed as he went to check on the generator and refilled its fuel tank. Then he came back to the laptop.

_We all fought so hard for so long…sacrificed so much so you could be safe. Did it matter in the long run? I hope so. I don't want to believe that all we went through-the friends and loved ones we lost-was all in vain. Because that would have meant that our enemies won. If you've finally beaten them, then maybe you'll understand what it took when you see these words._

It was getting late. Jack saved the data and got up to fix himself something to eat before going to bed. He was almost done; he could finish it tomorrow. It had started as a letter to Audrey, one that he knew she'd never receive, and turned into a confessional. There were things in it that would have gotten him sent to prison for divulging, once upon a time…back when such things had mattered. But there were no secret courts now, no one to remember or care about protocol. There were only survivors, like him. And they all had their own problems now.

Jack was tired; so very tired. He fingered the gray beard on his face and looked at himself in the mirror over his bathroom sink as he swallowed two more pills. He was old now; maybe as old as his father had been the last time they'd seen each other. _Maybe I'll see you again, Dad, _Jack thought as he lay down. The time was coming soon, he knew. The convulsions would subside as the disease finally took hold. If he was lucky, it would happen in his sleep, when he was dreaming about Audrey, and Chloe, and all the others. Maybe he'd see David again, too. He'd like that…

Jack turned off the lamp and closed his eyes. Darkness settled over him as he began to dream, no nightmares now, one last time.


End file.
